Fingering the New Arrival
The dim, fluorescent lights flicker in the stark, cold room as the new inmate, 27, is led in, her hands cuffed behind her back. The officer, a burly, tattooed man, begins the process, his voice gruff as he recites the protocol. But his eyes, they betray him, lingering on the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips. He steps closer, his large hand enveloping her small one as he removes the cuffs, his thumb brushing against her pulse point. She shivers, her breath hitching as he leans in, his voice dropping to a low rumble, "You're new here, aren't you? Let me show you around." His fingers trace the line of her arm, her neck, her jaw, before cupping her chin, tilting her head up. She gazes into his intense, hungry eyes, her lips parting slightly, inviting his kiss.